“I am so glad that you could make it!” said the elector of the Netherlands, Amalia, as she jumped out of her seat behind her desk, her big breasts jiggling in a way that immediately drew attention to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She took leaping steps around the table and…

John raised his hand. “Okay, that enthusiasm is so obviously fake I won’t fall for it,” he announced and looked at the way she was dressed today, which was a usual suit with a tight, but not overly short or sexy skirt (unless one got the hots for that kind of uniform, which John kind of did). “There is no way any woman of your position is this easy.”

“Well, aren’t you a clever one,” she immediately dropped the act and sat on the edge of her table. “Here I thought Lydia got you over to her side because you were young and inexperienced.” Her brown eyes looked at him with curiosity.

“I got monetarily indebted to her on my own terms, let’s leave it at that,” John threw her that tiny bit of information nonchalantly. If she did do anything slanderous with it, he would just crack down on her like a sledgehammer. Fact was that he would be powerful enough to do so; there was no doubt about that in his own mind anymore since he had taken a whole contingent of fighters in a war between two of the strongest factions on the planet.

Amalia probably understood all of that without John needing to lay it out; she looked young for her age, but she still appeared to be around 40. At that age and in her position, she must have been aware of what she could and could not get away with, and using one sentence in a private conversation to slander her new head of government was most definitely not it.

“So you obviously want something,” the Gamer said. “What is it?”

“Cutting straight to the chase, are you? Too bad for you, that isn’t really my style,” Amalia smirked and got moving again, gesturing at a circular elevator door that was part of her baroque style bureau (plus all the comforts and needs of modern technology). “Let me show you around a bit.”

John raised an eyebrow but complied, not like he was in a hurry to get somewhere. Right now, he was as free as a man could be. Gesturing for her to take the lead, he, without any care or shame, checked out her ass. He found it to be on the flatter side of things, which greatly diminished his interest in sleeping with this woman as he was, most definitely, an ass man.

They entered the elevator and started descending. It was a bit crowded as that one clearly wasn’t made to hold John and his whole addition of other girls. John looked with interest out of the shaft, as one side of it was made from glass and allowed an easy look at the piers in the courtyard. ‘This angle is much more awe-inspiring than bird’s eye view,’ he thought as he looked at all the boats, some as small as canoes, others gigantic cruise ships that rivalled or even surpassed John’s imagination of the Titanic. All of them (yes, even the canoes) were engineered not with gasoline but mana in mind, which led to some very interesting and unique looks. John found it to be a mixture of wacky futurism pictures from the 90’s and steampunk. Funny, in some respect, but mostly very interesting to behold.

After reaching the bottom, they stepped right onto the broad walkway that was the outer rim to which all of these piers were attached. John looked at the government officials taking note of which wares were brought in and who they came from before writing permits to sell in the city or buying and taking them into stock themselves.

“Do you know the history of the Netherlands?” Amalia asked, as they walked together. It was an unspoken display of the respect of her people that, miraculously, they could just go straight ahead without being blocked once by anything. Everyone just got out of their way as soon as they noticed her.

“Just going to assume you mean THESE Netherlands,” John answered, “and not the real one.”

“To me this is very much the real one,” Amalia answered. “The one you refer to is but a shallow urbanized state compared to my guild. Terminology aside, however, yes I mean these Netherlands.”

“In that case, next to nothing, basically only what happened post the second world war,” John informed her and then listened as he was given the rundown.

“The Netherlands started as a total of four different provinces of the empire, all of them internally divided. Unlike in the more central provinces, the guilds – or more aptly called warbands – in the distant fringes from back then weren’t consolidated but only loosely pacified. That left them in a state where they weren’t allowed to keep fighting each other without facing devastation at the hands of the occupying forces for breaching the peace.

“With nothing else to do, these - now former – warbands took to competing in other ways, mainly crafting. Over the next hundreds, even thousands, of years, what happened slowly was that the small guilds swallowed each other. They did so due to internal power, some guilds just got richer than others, and external pressure. The Abyssal Auction with its origins on the silk road and, way later, the Hanseatic Trading Company were the main competitors of what eventually became a single entity with the name of the NTC.

“With that much money accumulated in a single provincial guild, we were able to bribe the stagnant bureaucrats of the greater empire into allowing us to make some reforms as long as they stayed internal, which ended with the modern, fairly federal, government underneath two layers of monarchy,” Amalia ended the summary, “and then the Nazi’s plundered our city and took off with our trade and war fleet.”

“Well, it seems that you are doing a pretty good job rebuilding,” John said looking at a white yacht with blue tinted windows which darkened automatically when the guy inside (who looked like he had just sold the Mona Lisa and gotten an equivalent stack of cash) playfully pushed the girl he was inside there with. Now John wanted one of those. “What do these cost?”

“About three billion,” Amalia told him, “for the smaller models, that is.”

The Gamer made a sound as if somebody had punched him in the gut, that would be a lot of grinding, and the smaller models looked like there was only enough room for like 4 people. If he didn’t go for at least 10, that would be a major mobility problem.

“We are happy to negotiate whenever you get the money to buy one of our boats. While other guilds also produce Abyssal ships, none do it as well as we do,” she now was all business person; the suggestive act had been for the kind of ‘young, perverted and easy to manipulate’ guy John thankfully wasn’t. “Although I do have to warn you that you won’t be able to sail one of the uncamouflaged models anywhere unless you go through the Fateweaver courses to maintain the mobile barrier. You would just be stuck in the emergency barrier these things erect around themselves and eventually vanish in if left alone. You know, safety precautions to not get Gaia’s ire.”

“I don’t think that will be a big problem,” John said, although he had to wonder whether getting a high level in the I.D. skills would be enough or if he needed a higher level in the actual class. “But I don’t think you brought me here to advertise boats.”

“I would be lying if I said that wasn’t part of the reason,” Amalia answered bluntly, having figured that this was the best way to talk to him, apparently. “But no, I wanted to make you another offer. We are almost there.”

They had walked all the way to the far end of the piers, where the arms of buildings ended and met the oceans. The air wasn’t quite as salty as John imagined when standing next to the ocean, probably thanks to the cold weather and the fact that Amsterdam wasn’t directly on the ocean but instead a rather large bay.

John had his sparrow land on his shoulder, and then they were guided back into the building, which was actually rather easy since this end part was basically an open area with a giant ceiling overhead. They passed through the giant pillars and the metal constructions that were used by workers to reach higher places on tall buildings and similar things until they eventually arrived where Amalia wanted them.

John looked at the underside of the boat in front of him. They were standing at the side of a shipbuilding yard, and from the fact that the scaffolds were taken down all around him, it seemed that the thing in front of John had recently been completed.

Having grown up in a city by a river, it wasn’t like John had never seen a boat. As a matter of fact, his parents had once taken him out to see a particular big container ship cruise by. Big for their river, that was. The fact that he knew at least a little bit about these things made the thing in front of him look even more impressive.

It was hard to estimate length from this close, so John sent Jack flying out as he looked at the details. It was a cruise ship and a monster of one. Over two dozen rows of glass windows and balconies stretched over the size of the typical naval white painted thing. The bow and hull, in other words the parts of the ship that would be underwater, were painted black by contrast.

It was a marvel of engineering and design. Perfectly curved windows made up a glass ceiling above, what John presumed to be, a restaurant. The bridge grew seamlessly out of the upper deck, overlooking everything and equipped with antennae and other receivers that appeared to be put in place so well that it seemed like someone wanted them there rather than having to incorporate them out of necessity. The VIP area was made up of two crescent shaped apartments that were stacked onto the back part of the ship and one of two pools (the bigger one was for public usage while the smaller one was effectively fenced off by lying about one and a half metres higher and an actual railing). In between the two VIP apartments was a circular, softly slanted backwards outgrowth that John couldn’t quite place.

The whole ship must have been around five hundred metres long. Not that John needed to guess much more about the measurements as Amalia, happy with everyone’s state of awe (except for Eliza who was yawning at the whole thing), started speaking about the ship in the tone of someone who really wanted to sell something.

“This is the first of the new generation of ships, aptly called the Nederland-Class. It’s the biggest ship of the ‘real’ and Abyssal world at roughly 550 metres length, 100 metres height and 120 metres width. It’s propelled by a Mark 32 magic engine, consuming about 60’000 Maybel an hour. It will take its maiden voyage from here to New York, a seven-day trip.”

That actually wasn’t that bad, especially when compared to Phi- the iron giant that John had travelled in a few weeks ago. ‘I guess a simple propellant is way cheaper to maintain than moving something with as many joints as a human body,’ he thought, making some quick calculations. ‘So, 60’000 an hour means 1000 a minute means 16,67 MP per second… I could almost maintain that thing’s movement on my own. That’s crazy, I am bullshit.’

“There has to be a bunch of mana batteries stored up on that thing to maintain that,” John said. “Must be very expensive.” He didn’t let on what he had just calculated. “Not even including the living costs.”

“Someone who is maintaining six elementals and three artificial spirits should know all about expensive mana costs,” Amalia said. “Although it seems you have ditched one.”

“Tw-“ John was about to correct her on the initial number of artificial spirits he had but then realized that doing so would have been pretty stupid. Metracana’s were widely unknown, even if the word was probably circulating a lot now thanks to Metra’s appearance in the boxing ring yesterday. The fact that the thing happened, and Amalia had undoubtedly heard of it, but the elector of the Netherlands was still unaware of her mistake led on that it was something John could keep in hiding for a bit longer without much effort on his part. “T’would be more accurate to say she ditched me, but sure,” he acted like his earlier beginning was just a bit of a slur. “But why are you showing all of this to us?”

“I would like to offer you a ride in the VIP apartment, just you and nobody else in the whole thing, for the maiden voyage of this, our newest jewel, the Rising Tide.”

“Okay… but why?” John had to ask; there was no way this came for ACTUAL free. “I was planning on just flying back home, would be way quicker.”

“And way less interesting,” Amalia told him, something that especially Rave seemed to agree with. “I will tell you my three reasons. Number one, this is a maiden voyage, and while we should have packed enough fuel and mana-spenders to keep this thing running, we don’t know for sure, so having someone bordering on arch-mage on board would create a good security net,” Amalia told him straight out.

That first point made sense, even more than she probably knew from what John had calculated. “I see,” he pondered about it for a second and then decided to inform her about the math, in broad terms. “I will pay honesty with honesty, I could maintain the engine on my own for an extended period in case of emergency. I am just going to assume that I can reach it through that cylinder?” he pointed at the slanted thing he couldn’t make sense of earlier.

“No and yes, that’s just the VIP entrance into the inside of the ship so you don’t have to share corridors with the lower bookers,” Amalia said, “but it can lead you downwards into the secured areas if we give you access.”

“I see.” John had to wonder why it was designed the way it was if it was just some kind of elevator. It didn’t look bad, but there was no reason why it had to be the second highest point of the ship (after the bridge) from what John could make out. “Let’s hear the other two reasons then.”

“Number two is that you are obviously strong and in good graces with my head of state, so getting on your good side can’t leave me weaker than before,” Amalia said. “And for the third and final reason…” she was searching for words.

“…You are afraid that someone will sabotage this whole thing, aren’t you?” John asked. It was the logical conclusion. “This is you and your guild showing off; there have to be some people who want to humiliate you by making it seem like this is a faulty product.”

“No, actually,” Amalia said to John’s surprise, “I have full confidence in our security measures to prevent anything that would look like it’s our fault when something explodes.” In other words: ‘something may explode, but as long as we can put the blame on the responsible people, it’s not really a blow to OUR reputation.’ “However, the cruise will cross over the Atlantic Fuse.”

“Atlantic Fuse?” John asked; he had never heard of that. Amalia looked at him like she just found out he had been replaced by a Doppelganger and was now trying to sell her paperclips for 4,99$ a piece. “Sorry, I haven’t even been in the Abyss for a year, can’t know everything.”

“Sure?” Amalia said, still eying him up with minor ridicule. “Do you at least know what leylines are?”

That at the very least he was aware of. Leylines were streams of magic around which naturally occurring Illusion Barriers were much more common. It was where the majority of magical energy held by normal people went, as even those not part of the Abyss were producing so called Faith from their emotions and thoughts. Interestingly enough, leylines converged in Sicily, something that John, who now knew that the World Soul existed as a physical object, doubted was a coincidence.

“While most land leylines go through gaps between population centres rather than natural landmarks,” Amalia went with her explanation from there, “these spanning the oceans converge in the gaps between tectonic plates. They then continue to stream towards the Mediterranean from there.”

Now John couldn’t quite help himself but wonder why Remus chose that as his outline for the delivery routes of the world’s faith. If he even chose that in the first place, maybe it was actually a natural occurrence following the creation of the World Soul?

“So, the Atlantic Fuse is where the North American, Eurasian and African plates meet?” John asked. “Can imagine that being a whole lot of power flowing around.”

“A whole lot of unusable power,” Amalia confirmed, “but it’s spectacular to look at, that much I can tell you. Problem is there will be lots of monsters around there, so I was just going to ask you to help out in case something of a hurricane level forms there. We send scouts, but one can never be too cautious around that part of the world.”

“Sure,” John answered; he would do that without being asked. Monsters that were left inside Illusion Barriers for too long eventually absorbed so much power from the emotions of the people around them that they did something to the real world. Usually an earthquake or a streak of particularly nasty politicians or the local gold mine suddenly having a whole new and rich vein just one metre outside of the old tunnels. Things that didn’t look entirely unnatural but definitely had to do with some meddling by the Abyss. That, in turn, caused them to be wiped out by Gaia’s laws and thus the cycle began anew.

The beneficial kinds of monsters were much less common than their nasty counterparts, and with no way to really tell beforehand, they were hunted by the Abyss all over the globe. It helped that these monsters were real in some sense, so they could be skinned and eaten or whatever else could be done with monster corpses.

Of course, they were exceedingly rare were there wasn’t a leyline. Much more common were barriers just filled with lingering regrets that could only really be absorbed as a power source. The third way was to be somewhat good at Fateweaving and just creating one’s own barriers with monsters inside, but those were basically phantoms of phantoms, so they dropped nothing aside from a good workout.

Unless your title was The Gamer and you had cheat powers.

‘Anyway, that’s not what I should be thinking about right now,’ John reprimanded himself. “We will have to talk this out before we decide,” he told Amalia.

The blonde nodded and waited in place as John and his group isolated themselves.